


Raise a Glass to Freedom

by GinnyK



Series: The World Turned Upside Down [12]
Category: Bull (TV 2016)
Genre: Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 20:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyK/pseuds/GinnyK
Summary: A little Bull and Alex bonding.   Post ep (ish) for But for the Grace. Alex's POV





	Raise a Glass to Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Since my plan is to do a post ep for each episode this season I have this process when I watch Bull. I don't watch live as I'm busy on Monday nights so I usually watch on Tuesday. I watch once for the pure enjoyment and then rewatch later in the week for story ideas. While there was nothing wrong with this episode, I just didn't get a whole lot of ideas. So I give you a little Bull/Alex bonding based on a throw away line from my last story where Marissa suggests that Bull try running outside for a change of pace.

With one eye on my computer and one on my boss’s office I delete my junk email.  Bull is in with his core team, Marissa, Chunk and Benny.  They’re talking about the Chris Coleman case which ended early this afternoon, doing their post mortem as they do after every case.  I’ve yet to be invited to one of their post mortem sessions, one of the few things I’ve yet to take part in.  I’m sure it’s just an oversight but I don’t want to jump in where I’m not needed, or welcome.

Bull told me to cut off the meeting at 4:30 as we have a “date” to go running.  He’s been good about running on the treadmill a few times a week but he’s getting pretty bored with it.  And I don’t blame him, it has to be really boring.  Boring, plus with the glass windows and the way his steps pound on the treadmill, reverberating through the office, it has to be like running in a fish bowl.  Probably why he tends to do it after most people leave for the day.  But that runs into the whole “he’s supposed to leave at a decent hour” thing.

Anyway, it’s 4:30 so I shut down my computer and get up to stick my head in the room to try and get him to wrap things up.  I lean in the doorway and point at my watch. 

“Raise a glass to freedom,” he says, as he picks up his glass of ginger ale.  It’s the toast he usually gives at the end of a successful trial.  Sooner or later Marissa is going to realize it comes from Hamilton.

“To freedom,” the rest of the room mutters in unison as they raise their beer bottles.

As I turn to leave, I hear Bull calling me. “Hey Alex.” I turn around, not knowing what to expect.  “What’s the one thing you learned from this case?”

I don’t stop to think, I just blurt out the first thing that comes to my mine, appropriate or not.  “Do your Black Friday shopping online?”

Everyone is silent for half a second, then they all laugh together as they gather up their things and head out of the office.

“Go easy on him,” Marissa smirks as she passes me by.

“Hope you told him the same thing,” I mutter.

“Oh, I did.  I’d like the two of you to still be in one piece tomorrow morning.”

That’s my hope too, I think to myself.

******

Ten minutes later we’re on the elevator.  I checked the weather and although it was nearly 40 this afternoon the sun is going down quickly and the wind has picked up.

“You sure you want to do this?” Bull asked, clearly sensing my lack of enthusiasm.

“Well, we changed and we told people we were going to run, we should probably make some kind of effort.  Marissa’s probably tracked your phone or something,” I tease.

Bull picks up his phone and glances at it.  “I don’t think she did but when I tell her I’m heading home soon and she doesn’t believe me, she uses Facetime half an hour later, making sure it’s my apartment in the background.”

“You sure the two of you aren’t dating?” I snort as I zip up my jacket and pull my hat on.

“Pretty sure,” he snorts right back.  “Cause if we are, something’s missing,” he adds as the elevator opens to the lobby. I just roll my eyes and resign myself to spending the next hour or so in the cold wind.

*****

We manage to do a couple of miles before the wind and our complete lack of enthusiasm take over.  We do send a quick frozen selfie to Marissa, giving her proof of our efforts, however half-hearted they were.  She sends back a quick thumbs up and a picture of herself with a glass of wine in front of her fireplace.  Bull sends a few slightly inappropriate emojis in response.

“Coffee?” he asks as we head back in the general direction of TAC.

“Sure,” I answer through chattering teeth.

“Damn,” he mutters patting down his clothes.  “Do you have money, card, anything on you?”

I reached into my jacket, pulling my corporate card out of the inside ID pocket.  “You should carry ID when you run,” I point out.

“Didn’t need it, I had you to identify my cold, dead body.”

I just roll my eyes, something I do at least a dozen times a day.

*****

Ten minutes we’re sitting in a nice warm coffee shop, thawing out.

“How’s Andy?” Bull asks, as he does a few times a week.  It’s not just a question to make small talk.  He is genuinely interested in my family and Andy in particular.  Apparently my slightly annoying kid brother made quite an impression on my boss.  I know Bull made a huge impression on Andy; he’s still talking about his trip to TAC over a month ago.

“He’s pretty good.  Report card was great, an A in Art, B’s in everything else.  He’s proud of himself.  This time last year it was B’s and C’s.  Saw the neurologist last week.  Decreased the Strattera a little, he’s been kind of tired and the lack of appetite was a bit concerning.  He’s already short for his age, he doesn’t need to be extra skinny too.”

“Look who’s talking about being skinny,” Bull teases as he motions towards me.  Yeah, I could stand to gain a few pounds, preferably in the form of muscle mass.

“Still talks about the day he spent at TAC.  The place sure made an impression on him.  He’s now talking about being a lawyer or a stylist,” I tease as the waitress refills our coffee.

“Sure, not a psychologist,” Bull groans.  He glances over at the case filled with delicious looking pastries.  I give him a glare.  We ran, I’m not letting him ruin that with chocolate cream pie.

“So how was the post mortem on the case?” I ask, throwing that out there in an attempt to wrangle an invite to the next one.

“It was good.  You know, you’re free to come to them,” he adds, suddenly realizing where I was heading with the conversation.  “You’re pretty much free to join me in anything I’m doing.  Although I don’t think you really want to be around when Marissa and I fight but other than that, jump right in.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.  “Wasn’t sure if I needed an invitation.  And no, I don’t want to watch you and Marissa fight. Seems like there hasn’t been too much of that lately.”

“No, things have been pretty good.  We’re getting back to “normal”, whatever that means.  I gave up years ago trying to normalize our relationship.  But for the most part it works for both of us.”

“It is unique, if nothing else,” I tease as I pick up the menu the waitress left, just in case we decided we wanted more than coffee.  I could eat, I had an early lunch and I have my doubts that Bull actually ate anything, by the time they got back from court it was 1:30.  He picks up the menu, pushing his glasses up on his nose.  “Did you have lunch?” I ask, safely hidden behind my own menu.

“I’m guessing a hot dog from the cart doesn’t count,” he mutters as he picks up his coffee.  I just roll my eyes behind the menu.  “You know, your eyes are going to stay like that one of these days,” he teases.  Not sure if he really saw my eyes roll or if he really knows me too well after only a few months.

We order some food, soup and a grilled cheese for him and turkey club for me.

“So is the DA’s office really as cut throat as you made it out to be during the trial?”

“More so probably.  People do not want to be stalled on misdemeanor row for very long.  The scorecard they had was unfortunately the norm, not the exception.”

“But I guess the DA’s office is kind of the easiest place to start when you’re a young lawyer,” I muttered.

“Alex, anything you care to tell me.  Is law school in your future?” Bull asks, at first I think he’s teasing but I realize he’s not.

I just shrug my shoulders.  “I don’t think so.  But at some point I need to start considering my options.”

“You do,” he agrees without offering suggestions or ideas.  And I’m happy for that.  When the time comes to decide what is next I’m sure I will be discussing my options with him.

“But you know I am really happy where I am now,” I point out with a smile.

“Yeah, I pretty much figured that out.  And we are thrilled to have you.  Everyone is, but especially Marissa and me.  I know a lot of what you do for the two of us personally is nowhere in your job description.  You’re a buffer, a sounding board and at times the sole voice of reason,” he chuckles.

“I don’t mind it.  And it’s taught me that I don’t really want to be a couple’s therapist,” I snort.  His retort, which I’m sure would have been less than appropriate, is cut off by the arrival of our food.

“Speaking of Marissa. I know a few weeks ago, the two of you had what I can only imagine was an odd conversation about our well, odd relationship,” Bull says as he picks up his sandwich.

“We did.  And I’d like to think that I’m perceptive enough to have not been too shocked at any of what Marissa told me.”

“Yeah, we think you might have a better handle on our relationship than we do,” he teases with a roll of his eyes.

“Hey, who am I to argue, if it works for you that’s all that matters.”

“And for the most part it does.  Sure, we have our moments, but that’s just part of what makes us, well, us.

“I take it things have been good lately.  I haven’t heard any yelling and I haven’t had to run interference in a while,” I tease.

“Yeah, things are good,” he replies after taking a few seconds to think about his answer. 

We eat in silence for a bit.  His appetite seems good today, actually it has been for a couple of weeks now.  He’s been doing well all around for a while.  I think his meds are finally regulated and kicked in fully.  He’s good about taking the Vistaril before things get too out of control. And more importantly, he usually recognizes the need to take something before Marissa or I have to suggest it.

Bull’s phone vibrates and he chuckles at what he sees.  He holds it up to show me the latest text from Marissa, picture of her with another glass of wine as well as her fuzzy slippers.  He sends back a pic of me holding up my coffee mug in a mock salute with the hashtag #raiseaglasstofreedom.  A minute later Bull snorts a little, reading her reply.  He hands me the phone so I can see the text.

_Freedom from what, actual exercise?  I have some ideas about our next case.  I’ll Facetime you in an hour, better see your apartment in the background._

I just smile at the text and at their relationship in general.  I secretly hope to have as comfortable a relationship with someone as Bull has with Marissa.  Maybe someday. 

We finish up our food in comfortable silence.  Bull heads to use the restroom and I pay the bill, leaving a very generous tip on the corporate card.  The waitress brings back two to-go cups of coffee, she hands me the one with a phone number written on it.  I cover it with my thumb, not really interested in being teased by my boss as we walk back to the office.

 The wind’s died down a bit so the mile walk back to TAC isn’t too miserable.  The coffee helps too.  I check my watch, gauging if I can make it to Port Authority for the next bus.  Unfortunately, that would probably involve me running and I am done running for the day.

“Will you make it if the driver meets us out front?” Bull asks as he realizes what I’m thinking about.

I do a quick little calculation in my head.  “Yeah, that would be great.”

Bull pulls out his phone and makes the call.

The driver is pulling up as we enter the lobby.  Thankfully the elevator arrives quickly.  Bull holds it open as I run to grab my backpack.

“Raise a glass to freedom,” he says as he holds up his coffee.  I do the same as he steps off the elevator, heading for his office.

“Marissa’s calling in less than an hour, better head home,” I yell over my shoulder.

“Yeah and you better call that waitress,” he teases as he points to his coffee cup.

The man misses nothing, I should know that by now.


End file.
